


Zwangsvorstellung im Alles über Dich

by VioletGreen_Novia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Castiel, Bottom Ezekiel | Gadreel, Bottom Michael, M/M, Top Dean, Top Lucifer, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-04-19 09:03:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4740626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletGreen_Novia/pseuds/VioletGreen_Novia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*Time line sets when everything was over, no darkness, no break out of the Mark of Cain, all angels brought back to life and was forgiven by the returned God except for Metatron, and Crowley took over a peaceful hell.*</p><p>Sam knew that Gadreel felt sorry for everything he had done to him, including killing Kevin their beloved little prophet who deserved a better life. But he couldn’t forgive Gadreel. So when the angel came alone seeking for his forgiveness, he totally did not know what to do-- -- until Dean went missing and Sam was pretty sure that Gadreel had something to do with it. So he made a plan, a cruel, crooked one, which would lead both of them to a totally different path. </p><p>Decisions made by anger never led to a good end, but maybe this time... it would be different.</p><p>Well guys, I know that I set a tag "Major Character Death"... but this is supernatural right:) and rmb that death doesn't mean death! And a happy ending is promised!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Clouds

**Clouds**

Dean and Sam were translating a pile of thick books in the library of the bunker, when Castiel suddenly showed up showed up sitting on the desk. Dean jumped:

“What the hell, Cas?”

Sam couldn’t help but laughed. Castiel looked down at where he was sitting at, and he blushed cutely:

“Sorry. I don’t know where I’d land on, because I can’t control it usually when I am in a hurry and move too fast.”

Dean put down the pen, so did Sam. They exchanged a look. Both of them saw worriment on each other’s face, and Dean asked nervously:

“What is it, Cas? Don’t tell me that something screwed happen again. I have just started to like this peaceful life, Cas.”

Sam nodded slightly. After everything they’d been through together, he really wanted to live a quiet, happy life until the end of his life together with Dean and Cas. Castiel shook his head, and both of them sighed in relief.

“It is about Sam,” Castiel opened his mouth and said. Sam opened his mouth in surprised; Dean turned to stare at him. Castiel explained hastily,

“I mean, this has nothing to do with Sam, just that someone wants to meet him. Someone you both are familiar with.”

Dean and Sam exchanged a glance. Sam tested: “Crowley?”

Dean frowned. Castiel shook his head, his expression gone darker. “No.”

Sam hesitated. “Metatron?” he asked, unsure, and Castiel shook his head again.

“Cain?” Sam asked carefully, and Castiel widened his eyes for this:

“For God’s sake, Sam, no!”

Dean seemed to be pissed off. “Then who’s this mysterious person?” he growled, “I need to punch him in face when I see him.”

Castiel shook his head slowly. “Actually, Dean, you’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

Dean made uproar. “Cas, would you quit being so enigmatic? Just tell us!”

Sam shrugged at Castiel apologetically. “I’m sorry, Cas. Dean is not in a good mood today.”

Castiel nodded. “I know, he can’t have pie for breakfast today.” He said full of understanding, added seeing the freaked expression of the brothers: “I just read your thoughts, Dean.”

Dean complained loudly, Sam glared at him before turning back to the angel in trench coat. “Anyway, I’m sorry Cas. So, uh, did he say where’ll we meet? Well, I mean, that person?”

Castiel did not even think about it. “He can be here at any times, as long as you accept his request of meeting.”

“Why’d we refuse to do so?” said Dean, bad-tempered. Castiel explained:

“This isn’t about your will, Dean. It is about Sam’s.”

Sam shrugged. “Yeah, okay. I’m fine with that. Well, I mean, why not?”

Castiel just simply smiled bitterly. “You’ll know when you see him,” he sighed: “But just promised me one thing, Sam and Dean. I wish you won’t hurt him when he shows up, no matter how much you two hate him. He’d gone through enough punishment in our place, and actually, far more than enough. Go easy on him, please.”

“Wow, doesn’t sound good.” Dean muttered. Castiel gave him a deep glance, but Sam knew that Dean would always do whatever Cas told him to do. He smiled a little and turned to look at Castiel, who took a deep breath:

“Okay, I’m going to summon him down here. He’ll be here instantly.”

“Sum—“ Dean wanted to say something in astonishment, but way before he finished a figure showed on the other side of the desk, right behind Castiel and was smiling at them shyly and nervously. Sam couldn’t recognize him immediately at first, but when Dean cursed full of anger beside him, he figured it out. Cold mercury poured down his stomach and somehow straight into his heart, as he studied the figure’s face carefully his heart just went colder and stiffer in every second.

It’s Gadreel.


	2. Wounded Wild Animal

**Wounded Wild Animal**

Sam jumped up on his feet and left his seat, at the mean time Dean pulled out the gun in his pocket immediately pointing at the man in leather jacket, but his hands were shaking. “What are you doing here? What are you jackass doing here?”

 

Gadreel raised his hands in the air fast, a slice of imperceptible but strong hurt flashed in his hazel eyes and Sam caught it. “I’m here to talk, Dean,” he said depressingly. Castiel frowned, suddenly stood right beside Dean:

 

“What are you doing, Dean? Put down the gun!”

 

“Well you don’t say this, Cas,” said Dean, his voice trembling. “This freaking angel killed Kevin and possessed Sammy, and for God’s sake he had been Metatron’s second in command! How can I let Sammy talk to HIM?”

 

“Dean,” Sam frowned. “I’d like to talk to him. Give him a chance.”

 

Something lit up Gadreel’s grayish face. He looked at Sam with his deep brown eyes, said sincerely: “Thank you, Sam.”

 

Dean used the kind of “Unbelievable!” look to glare at his brother, but he put the gun down referring to his brother and his angel’s request. Sam said to the other angel coldly:

 

“That doesn’t mean that I forgive you. I’m just giving you a chance to explain yourself.”

 

Gadreel lowered his head, nodded lightly. “I know.”

 

“And by the way,” Sam added in Castiel’s disapproving glare. “I’m not Sam. I’m Mr. Winchester.”

 

Dean chuckled. Gadreel seemed to be embarrassed, but he mumbled:

 

“Yes, Mr. Winchester.”

 

Dean cut in. Clearly he thought that it was fun. “And me,” he said, merrily: “You can’t call me Dean too.”

 

Gadreel’s face turned into dark red. He said, swallowing his pride: “I’ll listen to your command.”

 

Dean thought for a moment. “Ta-duh,” he said joyfully with his hands clapping: “You have to call me Daddy.”

 

Sam twisted his head and stared at Dean unbelievably, “Bro!”

 

Dean grinned at his brother. “What?”

 

Sam shook his head in disagreement, turned to Gadreel and changed into his cold, hard voice: “You heard what my brother said, Angel.”

 

“Yes.” Gadreel said in a low voice, bowing his head dared not to look at Sam. “I understand, Mr. Winchester. And, and, Daddy.” He added, cheeks turned into dark purple-red while Castiel’s angry voice crashed into everyone’s ears:

 

“Gadreel, you can’t let them do this to you! Sam, Dean, you’re just playing game with Gadreel, are you?”

 

Castiel stared at both of them urgently, seeking for the answer. Sam met his glance, and this explained everything. Castiel twisted his head to a different direction furiously. Gadreel said in hurry:

 

“Cas, it’s okay, I don’t deserve their forgiveness.”

 

“What, Cas?” Dean repeated unbelievably, “CAS? You let this bastard called you CAS?”

 

Castiel replied in icy voice. “He is my friend. He is a good man. He is kind.”

 

Sam noticed Gadreel’s face was full of huge happiness and thankfulness, and this disgusted him. His sharp stare made the expressions left the angel’s face, and he said in a voice too hard and cold that even he himself felt surprised:

 

“I need to talk to this kind good man alone. Private.”

 

~!~!~

 

Sam stared at Gadreel coldly. The latter watched his face tensely, still rejecting to look him in the eyes; Sam snorted.

 

“Anything you’d like to say?”

 

Gadreel lowered his head. “I just want to apologize,” he said in despair. Sam made a short, icy laughter.

 

“Apologize? What make you think that we will forgive you?”

 

“Cas told me that you are great people. And when I was in your body, I can feel your kindness. Your soul is beautiful, Mr. Winchester.” Gadreel said with his head bowing, and somehow his word touched Sam; but he refused to forgive Gadreel this fast and easy.

 

From his sight, he could see the angel’s soft and messy brown hair, the same hairstyle with Dean but got a slightly difference when it was put on the angel’s vessel. His eyelashes were long, curly just like a pair of little brushes brushing up and down on his eye faces; Sam swallowed. His skin was so white. Not pale, but clean and lovely like the color of milk; Sam suddenly got a crush to rub his rosy cheeks hardly, felt the little invincible vellus hair on his soft skin rubbing his palm. Sam felt unbreathable all of a sudden with something hot streamed in his veins roaring and howling, he cupped Gadreel’s chin and forced him to meet his eyes:

 

“Listen to me, Angel. You want me to forgive you, fantastic. Do whatever I say, obey and keep them secrets. Understand?”

 

Gadreel nodded helplessly. He opened his mouth, pink tongue stretched out a little bit but he was not being aware of it himself; Sam felt like the final weapon he used to fight against the crush broke down. He crashed forward and bit on Gadreel’s soft and moist lips fiercely, tucked his tongue in and churned in his warm mouth as the angel made a breathless moan faintly, pressed the angel in his arms closer and squeezed his lips ruthlessly. All the thoughts left in Sam’s head was fuck this angel bitch, fuck him fiercely with all his strength until he cried out. And he’d never feel tired doing this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo~! Chapter two! Two in a day, I'm so satisfied about myself! Still, hope you guys like it, it shall be a long story but I promise that it won't boring! Comment please, and if you want to, kudos too~~


	3. Missing

 

**Missing**

Sam felt bad.

 

It had been quite a few days after he kissed Gadreel, but even now when he thought of this, he still found it embarrassing. He did not go further after the kiss, because when he suddenly realized what he was doing, he let go of the poor Gadreel and dashed away hastily. He felt bad, bad—how could he do this? Why, why would he do this?

 

He was not an emotional person. To tell the truth, Sam thought that he was much calmer than Dean was. But the truth was, under the situation that Dean had already come through once with Cas, instead of reject directly, he chose to kiss Gadreel. KISS HIM.

 

What the hell?

 

He scratched his head irritably, stood up and headed to the kitchen. He just ran out of beers, which he needed the most now to calm himself. He opened the fridge, seeing nothing inside; Sam cursed with low spirit.

 

“Dean?” he yelled out with his voice raised, “Dean? Where did you hide the beers?”

 

Nobody answered. Sam guessed that his elder brother might be hiding in his room doing “personal stuff”, and so he raised his voice much more higher and howled:

 

“DEAN! DEAN—“

 

He stopped all of a sudden, as a creepy sound stopped him. It sounded like somebody was scratching on the wall drawing pictures with their nails, but big enough for Sam in the kitchen to hear; his heart stopped.

 

Sam pulled out his gun hurriedly without even just a second of hesitation. After a year lack of practice, his movement was still fluent and natural; but his legs were somehow trembling, when the small scratching sound went on and on disturbing his mind. Sam took a deep breath. He tried his best not to think that something might have happened to Dean, but the worriment and scare capturing his breath just kept on telling him that it was not true.

 

Sam felt like his head was going to explode because of tense and nervousness, the depression filling the air in the bunker pressed him down and he felt like it was going to squeeze his head into paste. Maybe that was why when a figure suddenly showed up in the middle of the room, he almost shot it instantly, but in a second, he saw its face and he dumped the gun immediately with a low cry in fear.

 

“Cas?” he asked almost unbelievably. The angel looked terrible—his trench coat almost torn up, his hair messy and dirty, and panic written on his face along with anger and anxiety. He nodded rudely. Clearly, his mind was not on this.

 

“Sam,” he said hastily. Sam swallowed, somehow discovered that the scratching sound disappeared suddenly. “I need your help. Dean is missing.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, about Dean... I think that I still haven't decided about what had happened to him, but this story is non-doubt a happy ending so, enjoy!!!!


	4. Gadreel's Help

**Gadreel’s Help**

Sam breathed heavily. His head was like a paste, but strangely, it was working impressing great and fast. He opened his mouth, ignoring the huge panic and pain ramming his heart:

 

“Why? How did it happen, Cas?”

 

Castiel inhaled heavily, though he did not need to. Sam stared at him anxiously, and the angel answered in hesitation:

 

“I—I don’t know, Sam. All we need to do is to find Dean, and save him.”

 

His voice was trembling. Sam could see his eyes shinned with tears and the unswerving thought of saving Dean, and somehow, Sam wanted to hug Castiel tightly in his arms, thanked him for caring about Dean this much; but he held himself, like what he failed to do when he leaned in and kissed Gadreel. Sam’s heart twisted again thinking of Gadreel, a fire burning in his heart fiercely because of anger. It was all because of Gadreel. Every time he showed up, something bad would happen to him and Dean. It was his fault. It was all his fault. Probably, he was the one who planned to kidnap Dean. Sam bit his lips, so hard that blood started to emerge.

 

~!~!~

 

Sam was lying on the bed of motel with heart full of complicated feelings and thoughts, when Gadreel suddenly showed up in front of his bed. Sam jumped. With gun pulled out under his pillow and pointed at Gadreel in no more than two seconds, he gritted his teeth:

 

“Explain the reason why you’re here, bastard.”

 

Gadreel took a step backward, showing clear confusion to the gun, but then hurt replaced the dazed on his face. He raised his arms:

 

“Sam. I just want to help. Castiel told me-- what happened--”

 

Sam muttered furiously, “Get out.” He pointed at the door using the other arm, stared at Gadreel harshly: “I don't know why and what did Cas told you, but you have created enough mess. Now, get OUT! Do you need me to repeat it thrice?”

 

Gadreel tried to fight back, powerless. “Sam,” he said pleadingly: “Please. I want to help. I will not bring you any troubles, I will listen to whatever you say, okay?” he added hopelessly, “I will... obey and keep them secrets,” he murmured, lowered his head with ears burning. Sam knew that Gadreel felt ashamed, repeating the words Sam used to insult him the other day. Somehow, he found himself lowering the armed arm, and stared at Gadreel blankly.

 

Once again. Another reminder of what mistake he had made back in a few days ago.

 

Sam threw his long, strong arms around his head, and fell onto the mattress, saying nothing. Gadreel seemed to take it as permission for him to stay, because he then spoke carefully with a slight of excitement in it:

 

“Sam. Thank you.”

 

If Sam still wanted to reject him a second ago, the moment when Gadreel said “Thank you” he was forced to changed his mind. He sighed in silence with his head bowing. He did not want to see the kind of heartbreaking, wounded-little-animal-like look on Gadreel’s face, which he always showed involuntarily when Sam refused him. That somehow meant to make his heart trembled because of guilty, but who cared? Now Sam just wanted to take a rest. A good one, considering the fact that he had to start searching for his brother tomorrow—and Sam was pretty sure that it meant for the start of a couples of sleepless nights.


	5. Ruins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, sorry about the late update!! I move the exciting part to the next chapter, well... still hope that you'll like it!!

**Ruins**

Sam woke up to see Gadreel staring at him sitting at the bedside, and it was somehow creepy. He jumped, roared angrily,

 

“You bastard watched me sleep?”

 

Gadreel widened his hazel eyes, face full with unease and anxiety. “I’m sorry,” he murmured regretfully:

 

“I thought... I find watching human sleep exciting.”

 

Sam glared at him. Gadreel lowered his head, face reddened:

 

“I’m sorry, S—Mr. Winchester.”

 

“Castiel taught you to do that?” asked Sam darkly. Gadreel raised his head up immediately, surprised and fearful:

 

“What—”

 

His words vanished in the air as his eyes met Sam’s face. Sam looked at him with no mercy or understanding; his green eyes shined in the sunlight with a light of cold and disgust, which unfit the warm golden background totally. He studied Gadreel’s red face closely, then he leaned backward and announced deadly,

 

“Leave. I need to go brush my teeth.”

 

Gadreel nearly wanted to use his wings and flied away instantly. But he stopped himself from being impetuous and walked away, stood there awkwardly as Sam left the bed and went straight into the bathroom, not even tried to throw him a look. Gadreel felt tired all of a sudden. He stood even more straight, swallowed the bitterness and grievances down his stomach, encouraging himself not to give up.

 

Though he really did not understand what Sam was saying. Why was Cas reminded?

 

~!~!~

Sam walked out the bathroom to see Gadreel stood there dumbly. He snorted, as he walked towards the angel:

 

“Get me some breakfast.”

 

“Where are you going?” Gadreel asked confusedly. Sam did not even look at his face:

 

“Run.”

 

“Run?”

 

“Run.”

 

Sam shot a glance at the angel who was clearly feeling dazed, said impatiently with a slice of anger:

 

“I mean jogging. Okay?”

 

Gadreel muttered something Sam could not hear. He leaned in, doubtfully:

 

“What?”

 

Gadreel’s face burned again. “No—nothing,” he stammered, with his face blushing seriously as Sam leaned in closer and murmured:

 

“Speak. What did you say?”

 

Their faces were only inches away, and Sam’s breath brushed on Gadreel’s lips every time he pronounced a word. Gadreel saw Sam’s eyes went darker as he spoke. He saw it as a dangerous note, and he could not help but started to move backward unconsciously:

 

“Nothing, S—Mr. Winchester, really—”

 

His voice was cut off as Sam violently caught his collar and threw him onto the bed. He struggled in funk, but Sam jumped onto the bed and knelt at his ankles, pressed him in the mattress with his hands on his neck squeezing fiercely. Gadreel coughed and struggled hard, but he dared not to use his angel power as he was afraid that it might hurt the former hunter. Sam roared above him, his voice deep and was full of anger:

 

“What the hell do you actually want, huh, bastard?”

 

Gadreel felt the capillaries on his face started to split. Sam loosened his hands a little bit, and Gadreel choked:

 

“I...I want nothing fr—from you, I...” he felt Sam’s hands tightened on his neck, “I hope that y—you can for—forgive me...”

 

Physiological tears spilt out from the corners of his eyes. He shielded his Angel Power consciously and it led to the sparks fly flying in front of his eyes right now, but he could feel Sam loosening his hands slowly and left his neck. He fell onto the mattress, inhaled heavily and fast, eyelids fell gradually. Just when his breath went back into flat and calm, a body suddenly pressed against his fiercely, his gasp fastened again and opened his eyes in hurry to see a pair of dark green eyes staring into his brown ones. He inhaled a sharp breath, face turned pale as Sam breathed at his ear darkly:

 

“I’d like to see you try.”

 

 


	6. Dirts (1)

Sam felt a slice of cruel happiness.

Pressing the angel down on bed, squeezed his neck and found out that he could do nothing about it—maybe God still did not trust him? Sam thought merrily—made the adrenaline filled his veins in a flash. His blood quickened and electricity tingled his skin. At that moment, he couldn’t help but wanted to ravage the angel’s purity and ruined that innocent simple in his eyes, violated him over and over again until he cried out loud and sobbing, struggled helplessly under his fierce, enhancing movements. 

Sam was taken aback totally by himself, wait a second... why would he think like that?

He wanted to rape the angel...?

The angel coughed and choked under Sam’s control. He struggled, and Sam felt anger rushing up to his throat irresistibly along with reasonless unease and fret. He heard himself gritted his teeth, howled:

“What the hell do you actually want, huh, bastard?”

Gadreel struggled underneath his strong body. He watched, as the angel’s face reddened because of anoxia:

“I...I want nothing fr—from you, I...” 

Liar. Sam pressed the angel with even more strength unconsciously, anger rising in his chest.

“I hope that y—you can for—forgive me...”

The angel choked and the words hit Sam as hard as a thunder in a sunshiny day. He let go of Gadreel dumbly mechanically, slipped down the bedside in a daze. He watched the angel’s breath slower down but eyes still shutting, his whole body trembling seriously and Sam felt the hit-like feeling came back again—what had he done? Jesus, what had he done to Ga—the angel?

He felt guilty again. Watching the angel struggling for air, Sam wondered if he was punished not to use his angel power, as angels did not need to breathe. The sun shined through the windows of the motel behind Sam and produced shadow on Gadreel’s pinky cheeks and his unhealthy, pale skin; the angel’s eyelashes trembled slightly brushed on his cheekbones every time, hazel hair tidied up to a neat but also suitable hairstyle—which fits him, thought Sam.

The feeling he once had back in the bunker went back to him once again. He stared at the angel weak and destructible on the bed swallowing hard, fingernails pricked into his palms when he went on trying to fight the ugly will occupying his heart and his brain. The angel bit his lower lip unconsciously, and the eager finally beat the reasons—

Sam jumped onto the bed and cupped the angel’s sides of head, sinking himself into the mattress pressing down and down to the angel’s face as the hazel eyes beneath him opened in gaze and panic feeling the physical pressure he had created. He grunted, biting his teeth,

“I’d like to see you try.”

And then he bit on the angel’s lips.


End file.
